


In Your Keeping

by westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist



Category: The West Wing
Genre: F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-03-17
Updated: 2002-03-17
Packaged: 2019-05-15 10:48:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14789084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist/pseuds/westwingfanfictioncentral_archivist
Summary: "You have always seen me through while I am peacefully sleeping ..."





	In Your Keeping

**Author's Note:**

> A copy of this work was once archived at National Library, a part of the [ West Wing Fanfiction Central](https://fanlore.org/wiki/West_Wing_Fanfiction_Central), a West Wing fanfiction archive. More information about the Open Doors approved archive move can be found in the [announcement post](http://archiveofourown.org/admin_posts/8325).

**In Your Keeping**

**by:** Cara 

**Category:** Romance, Josh/Donna

**Rating:** CHILD

**Summary:** "You have always seen me through while I am peacefully sleeping ..."

_Tell me I will never die_  
Take away my pain   
Rock me gently in your arms   
Say that I'll remain in your keeping 

"Josh, how do you do these things? Honestly." I say as I help him into his car. "It's not like the big bad stairs jumped out of the dark and bit you or something." 

"Be quiet, Donna." Josh grunts as he eases his weight into the passenger side. "Please. This week has already been seven kinds of hell and you are now, by definition, adding to it." 

I sort of regret my words. He really is in pain. And I know from personal experiences that sprained ankles hurt like hell. "Sorry, Josh. It's kind of a reflex by now." 

"I know." 

I lift myself into the driver's seat - honestly, how is one supposed to get into an SUV without a stepladder? - and turn on the gas. "How did it happen? Really?" 

Josh can't look at me, which means it was something embarrassing. Finally he mumbles, "I was backing away from Ben and Sally's dog." 

I can't hold back a chuckle. "Ben and Sally's dog?" I think it's cute, though I'd never tell him that. 

"It's a Saint Bernard, Donna!" Now he's radiating offended dignity. "That dog weighs fifty pounds! And gets dog hair on me, not to mention licking me profusely." 

Now I'm laughing. He sounds so fastidious. "But how did that dog make you break your ankle?" 

"He jumped at me. I backed away and lost my footing, thus falling down a flight of stairs." Josh tries to move his left foot with no success. "I told my neighbor to go through my speed dial and she called you." 

"I'm on your speed dial?" 

"Donna, please ..." His tone is pleading. 

I chuckle once more, then let it slide. He's really hurting, and he doesn't need a smartass right now, though that's usually my role - to keep his ego grounded. He needs Friend Donna, not Smartass Donna. Though I am often both. 

_Brush the hair out from my eyes_  
Read me a good story   
Kiss my fingertips goodnight   
Say that I can stay in your company

__

After a bit of silence, I broach the subject. "Are you coming in to work tomorrow?" 

He looks at me as though I've suggested a coup d'etat. "Of course! Like I'm going to let a little thing like this stop me." 

"Okay." A thought strikes me. "You have meetings on the Hill all day tomorrow on 61-3635." Navigating the Hill is difficult enough without crutches and/or a splint on one leg. 

"I'll be fine, Donna. Really." 

"Okay." I settle in for the drive. I know the way to Josh's place like the back of my hand. I'm not sure whether this is a good thing or not, but at least the knowledge is useful tonight. 

It's an uneventful night. A few isolated cars cruise by me underneath Washington's faltering streetlights. I don't want to go too fast because as I have said Josh drives what can be charitably described as a suburban assault vehicle. This thing handles like a tank. 

As I try to keep myself from zoning out, I steal a look at Josh. He's slumped over on the seat, and his eyes are closed. I turn the radio down a bit. Nodding off will do him good. I try not to laugh as I watch him intermittently. Everyone goes on about how boyish Sam's features are, and how good looking he is - and he *is* pretty hot - but Josh has an innocence in his face when he's asleep. He's like that hellish child whose sins are all forgiven when he's fast asleep. 

I tease him a lot. It's fun. It's also worth it, because without me we'd have to build the Josh Wing of the White House just for his ego. In that way I've been called invaluable, as much so as if I had seven degrees and sat on the President's senior staff. 

But there's something between us that I don't quite get. Sam and Cathy don't have it, or Toby and Bonnie or Ginger, or even Leo and Margaret. If I believed in reincarnation I'd say we've met in another life. Because he's my friend. He was my friend the second day I worked at campaign headquarters. 

_And I know this much is true_  
I have lived inside of you   
You have always seen me through   
While I am peacefully sleeping 

__

I stop at a convenience store; I need coffee. Working in the White House has ingrained that need in all of us. And I thought I'd have no vices. 

Josh is still slumbering when I get back to the car. Now he's sort of curled up, one cheek against the headrest. His lips are twisted in that comical posture that for me always brings up the image of a duck. But they're also in a way that could conceivably be kissed ... if one was so inclined. 

I shake my head vigorously to dispel the image. Damn it! Why am I still thinking like this? After all this time, haven't I gotten the idea out of my head that dating my boss is an extremely bad idea? 

Josh is brilliant, funny, quixotic, disdainful, mysterious, maddening, kind and an extremely capable politician. I've seen him reduce senators with advanced graduate degrees to blithering heaps of dangling participles. I've also seen him, helpless and afraid, after smashing his hand through a window. I've seen him at his best and his worst. I guess it's true what they say about bonds forged in adversity. I would do quite a lot for Josh Lyman. 

And the best thing is that I know he'd do the same for me. He's told me. Not in words. But in the little things. Like when I thought he was about to be fired, and brought him coffee, he took all the heat. He told me that if he got fired, so be it. The look on his face ... others would have called it patronizing. I call it protective. 

I won't deny that he's attractive. I won't deny that I love him like a brother. But that's all, I tell myself. He's just my boss. 

Sure. And hell is just a sauna. 

_You have always been my friend_  
I can see your beauty shining   
I will love you till the end   
Long will I remain in your keeping 

__

We arrive back at his building. I hate to wake him. He's progressed from the banal to the amusing to the cute. Still, I have to. Shaking him gently by the shoulder - he won't expect that, will he? - I call his name and am shocked by the power it holds for me. "Josh. Josh, wake up." 

He turns and emits one of those little grunts people make as they come back to the land of the awake. "Mfdhsagh." 

"Yeah, Josh, I love you too." I'm completely shocked as these words leave my mouth. Where the hell did *that* come from?!? It's spoken in a customarily smartass tone, but nonetheless, it's weird. To even say the word love in connection with Josh not only leaves me cold with fear, but also sends a curious feeling simmering at the base of my spine. 

Fortunately he's too fuzzy to notice. "Donna?" 

"Yeah. Come on, Josh, wake up." 

He's fully awake now, more or less, and shifts his weight so I can go around and open the door. "Wow," he says, rubbing his eyes. "How long was I asleep?" 

"I don't know." I shrug. "Pretty much the whole drive." 

"Go figure." 

"Get some sleep, Josh." I'm slipping into my Mother Donna mode here. He needs it, I tell myself. Either that or a wife. The man is the consummate bachelor. I've been in his apartment, I know. Dirty dishes, unmade beds, dusty floor ... I revise my assessment. He needs a housekeeper before anything else. 

He grins at me with sleep-sodden eyes, knowing what I'm trying to do. "Yes, Mom," he says. It's a little weird for me to even hear him call me that in jest, because for one, I'm eleven years younger than him. And for two, he worships his mother, like he worshiped his father. 

I help him up the stairs, with great difficulty. He keeps stepping on my foot. "Josh!" I yelp after the fourth time. 

"Sorry, Donna, but you should keep your foot out of my way." 

I roll my eyes and mumble. "I've held you up when you were drunk, Joshua." 

Unfortunately, he hears me. "Yeah, well, then you should be able to hold me up now." 

He's trying to bait me. And it's incredibly cute. 

Damn. 

We get up to his apartment. Josh unlocks the door as I readjust my grip on him. I put my arm around his shoulder, and he slips an arm around my waist. We have an equal distribution of weight now, which helps as he slides onto his bed. 

Is it hot in here or is it just me? 

"You sure you'll be all right?" I question him one last time. I have gotten ice, we have elevated his foot and done all the things that are necessary. 

"Yeah, I'm fine." 

"Okay then." I get up and turn to leave. 

But as I'm at the door I'm stilled by a noise. "Donna?" 

"Yeah." 

"Thanks." He smiles at me with that little boy's grin. "Really. I appreciate it." 

The words tell me nothing. The emotion I want is written clearly in his eyes. 

I stay until he's asleep. It's worth every minute just to stare at the expression on his face. He thinks he owns the world. And he's close to it. But since he doesn't like to ask for help, I have to do it on my own. 

He breathes evenly, letting those little unruly locks of hair tumble in all directions. I smile, covering him with a blanket. He'll come in none the worse for wear in the morning. 

I guess there are worse places for him than under my eye. 

_And I know this much is true_  
I have lived inside of you   
You have always seen me through   
While I am peacefully sleeping   
While I am peacefully sleeping ... 


End file.
